SCP-3000
Special Containment Procedures: The area containing SCP-3000, currently a region of the Bay of Bengal roughly 300km in diameter, is to be routinely patrolled by Foundation naval vessels. Under no circumstances are civilians allowed to attempt deep sea exploration or diving efforts in the quarantined area. Individuals believed to have contacted SCP-3000 are to be contained, quarantined, and processed at Site-151. Individuals affected by the anomalous properties of SCP-3000 are to be held in containment indefinitely. The Foundation submarine SCPF Eremita is to monitor the location of the foremost section of SCP-3000, currently located within the Ganges Fan, roughly 0.7km beneath the Bay. The Eremita is tasked with carrying out the Atzak Protocol, and staffing regulations onboard the vessel are subject to the guidelines of that protocol. For a full description of the Atzak Protocol, see Addendum 3000.2. There is currently no known cure for exposure to SCP-3000; as such, affected individuals should be contained and quarantined for further evaluation. Individuals stationed aboard the SCPF Eremita are not permitted to leave the vessel except for the purposes of carrying out the necessary procedures of the Atzak Protocol. Individuals who leave the vessel without proper authorization are to be considered lost. Under no circumstances should any individual interact with SCP-3000 without authorization. Description: SCP-3000 is a massive, aquatic, serpentine entity strongly resembling a giant moray eel (Gymnothorax javanicus). The full length of SCP-3000 is impossible to determine, but is hypothesized to be between 600 and 900 kilometers. The head of SCP-3000 measures roughly 2.5m in diameter, and sections of the body proper are as large as 10m in diameter. SCP-3000 is typically a sedentary creature, only moving its head in response to certain stimuli or during feeding. The majority of its body is located in and around the Ganges Fan1, and rarely moves at all. SCP-3000 is carnivorous, and despite its sedentary nature is capable of moving quickly to dispatch prey. Despite its size, it is hypothesized that SCP-3000 does not require sustenance to maintain its biological functions2. While SCP-3000 excretes a thin layer of a viscous, dark grey substance classified as Y-909 (see Addendum 3000.2 below) through its skin as it consumes prey, the end result of its digestive processes is currently unknown. SCP-3000 is a Class VIII cognitohazardous entity; direct observation of SCP-3000 may cause severe mental alterations in viewers. Individuals who directly observe SCP-3000, as well as any individuals within an uncertain distance of SCP-3000, experience inexplicable head pain, paranoia, general fear and panic, and memory loss or alteration. The following is a log from Site-151's historical records, written by Dr. Eugene Getts, about initial discovery of SCP-3000 and the effects felt therein: …the unease was felt throughout the entire crew as we descended on that first night. Whether this was due to our uncertainty at what we would discover, or something more sinister, I would not speculate. As we continued to descend, Williams began sweating profusely. When asked about it, he could not respond, stating that he thought he was missing something he could not deduce. As our descent continued, he began to act more and more erratically, at one point addressing myself as "Darlene" and expressing uncertainty as to the tasks he was assigned to handle. Similar feelings were expressed by other members of the crew, but Williams felt it the most. His memetic resistance was by far the lowest of all of us, but he was a biologist, not a memeticist. When we finally came into contact with the entity, he began whimpering and had to be sedated. I remember him muttering the word "no" over and over again, as if in disbelief. He went silent after a while as we approached its head, and when I looked back at him something had gone from his eyes. He did not even so much as blink as we made our final descent. At around 0940 hours, we first observed the head of the entity. The unease was palpable now; several other crew members complained of feeling "hazy" and of being uncertain what they were supposed to be doing. Captain Ritter, ever the man's man, wrote it all off as nitrogen intoxication and forced them to continue approaching the entity. When we were within fifty meters, the entity turned slowly to look at us. Even now, as I recall watching this thing coil around in the darkness, I can still hear Williams, barking like a mad dog in the rear of the vessel. Screaming and flailing, shouting about how he could see it in his head. Perkins and Harrison tried to restrain him, but he got free and smashed his face in against one of the portholes. He hit it so hard he cracked the inner layer of glass. The damage was bad enough that we had to surface. We tried to give Williams medical attention, but he was too far gone at that point. He had pulped himself against the glass, and despite the trauma, he still spoke briefly as he lay dying. Nobody recorded it, we didn't think to at the time. But I remember it well enough. He said, "there's nothing, nothing, nothing." By the time we had reached the surface several hours later, Williams was dead. At the time, I didn't think much about what he had said. Just the ravings of a man gone mad by the depths, I figured. I didn't know any better. But even now, I can still see the eyes of the creature. I see it hanging there in the darkness, illuminated by a light I cannot source. And I feel the lingering dread that Williams must have felt that night in the submersible, as he was overcome by whatever void that foul thing slithered out of. Discovery: SCP-3000 was discovered in 1971, shortly after two Bangladeshi fishing boats and fifteen fishermen were reported missing after drifting near the Indian coast. As the country of Bangladesh had only been recently established at the time and had been subject to significant political persecution on the part of Pakistan, this incident received high profile media attention due to fears that it was a result of foreign aggression. Local coastal dispatch units could not locate the missing boats, fueling further media hysteria. Foundation researchers stationed in Calcutta (now Kolkata) drew similarities between this disappearance and another incident two years earlier. A thorough search aided by Mariotte-Pashler Counters revealed the location of the two boats, as well as an unknown, previously undiscovered mass deep below the surface of the Bay of Bengal. Further investigation by Foundation divers discovered the existence of SCP-3000. The area was quickly secured, and current containment procedures were put in place in April of 1972; the Atzak Protocol was adapted in October of 1998. Addendum 3000.1: Initial Contact Exploration Log Note: The following is the transcript of audio logs taken during initial deep-sea diver contact with SCP-3000. Until this point, no Foundation diver had come within 300m of SCP-3000. Divers were tasked with assessing the creature, and determining the source of the thick, grey fluid that had been observed floating around its head. Dive team was composed of three members of MTF Orion-9 “Kingfishers”, lead by MTF O-9 Alpha. Launch point was through the airlock of the Foundation submarine SCPF Stravinsky. All divers were equipped with high-pressure suits, as well as front-facing headlamps. Additionally, a tether was connected to MTF O-9 Alpha, which was then connected in a “T” shape out to both Bravo and Foxtrot. LOG Alpha: Alright command. We’re situated in the airlock, and ready to roll. Command: Confirmed. Go ahead and sound off. Alpha: Orion-9 Alpha, check. Bravo: Orion-9 Bravo, check. Command: Alright, men - we’re in position about 500m from the head of this creature. Make sure your tethers are on good and tight, we don’t want any of you getting separated out there. Bravo: What’s visibility like down here today, command? Command: Standby. Command: About three meters. Foxtrot: So it’s dark as fuck. Got it. Bravo: Why are we so far out? Command: The size of this thing is hard to comprehend, and it’s wrapped up in itself in several places. We can’t get too close because there’s too much body there. The entity hasn’t moved in about three weeks. Foxtrot: At all? Command: Affirmative. It moves slightly with the currents down here, but nothing more than that. If it weren’t for the head movement that was observed by the first submersible team, we probably wouldn’t know if it was alive or not. Foxtrot: That’s reassuring. Alpha: Alright, tethers are tight. Flood the chamber. Command: Confirmed. Rushing water is heard as the airlock chamber floods. No other sound is heard for several minutes. After some time, the sound of rushing water stops. Alpha: You both good? Bravo: I’m good. Foxtrot: It’s fucking cold. Alpha: Hopefully we won't be out for long then. Turn on your lights boys, here we go. All members of the dive team exit the airlock. There is a low mechanical sound as the airlock door closes behind them. A muffled click sound is heard, and the Stravinsky activates its aft floodlights. Foxtrot: Hey Alpha, I uh— maybe this is a bad time to ask, but I can’t remember how to turn on my lamp, and- Alpha: Your lamp is on, Foxtrot. Foxtrot: It— what? (Pauses) What did you call me? Alpha: Your designation, Mulhaney. Foxtrot. Bravo: I’m Foxtrot, boss. Alpha: Hang on, what are you talking about? Foxtrot: I don’t understand what you mean by “designation”. Alpha: It’s your goddamn call sign, Bravo, what do you mean— Bravo: Who’s Bravo? Alpha: I— uh, shit, hang on. I was going to say something. Barry3, are you still there? Command: Standby. (Pause) Go for command. Alpha: Hey, we’re having a little trouble out here, I’m not sure who… we seem to have some confusion over designations, and I’m not sure where we’re going. Foxtrot: Where exactly are we? Bravo: God, do you— do you guys feel that? I’ve just got an awful headache, it’s like needling in my brain, something… Command: Dive team, be advised that we believe you may be experiencing some detrimental cognitive effects. Keep moving forward, and we’ll give you more information as we receive it. Alpha: Noted. Command, be advised that Foxtrot has a… uh… terrible headache. I think… are we going in the right direction? We can’t see out here. Command: You are roughly 150m from the head of the entity, Alpha. You should be getting a visual soon. Bravo: Command, I don’t see anything, where are we? Alpha: Where are we? Command: We're almost there, Alpha - dive team, be advised, we’re picking up movement from the entity on radar. Alpha: I— Barry, I don’t see anything down here, what are we supposed to be looking- Foxtrot: All… all I can see is darkness. There's a chill foul wind blowing, pushing me towards a brink I can't see- Alpha: Shut up, shut up, shut up - Command, Bravo is unresponsive, requesting immediate cessation of mission- Bravo: Wait a second- Foxtrot: —on the edge of the nothingness, inches from oblivion. There's a… there's a sickness in my mind that I know can't be cured. Beyond me is only blackness, and a single pair of dark eyes- Alpha: What? What are you saying? Command: Dive team, we’re going to pull you back in immediately, we have reason to believe that— Alpha: Barry? Is that you? How can it be? I shoveled the dirt during your— Bravo: I can hear something over there, Alpha, your light, get your fucking— Foxtrot: —silence, only silence, my consciousness coming undone and only and only and only- Command: Dive team, something is moving toward you, repeat, something is moving toward you, prepare to return to- Alpha: Ah, this is shit. I can’t see. How far are we from the- Bravo: It’s right there! It’s right there! Fuck! What are you both doing? Fuck! Foxtrot: —and only the eel remains. Radio silence for twenty seconds. Command: Alpha? Radio silence for thirteen seconds. Command: Alpha? Bravo? Foxtrot? Do any of you hear us? Bravo: (Unintelligible) Command: Oh, thank God - Bravo, you need to speak up, we can’t— Bravo: Shhhhhhhh. Radio silence for ten seconds. Command: Something has bound up the winch between you and us, we can’t— Alpha: It’s opening its mouth. Bravo: It’s so dark, there’s— ah- Foxtrot: Where am I? What— Alpha: Barry? How can it be? I shoveled dirt- Bravo: Mulhaney… swim, get away, there’s only darkness, swim— Foxtrot: Only- There is suddenly tension in the tether attached to the Stravinsky. O-9 Foxtrot’s radio goes silent. There is the sound of a struggle through the other two radios. Command: Foxtrot? Foxtrot? Alpha? Bravo? Talk to me, stay calm, what happened? Bravo: It ate him, fuck, he’s gone, it took him whole, he— goddammit, Alpha, what are you doing? Alpha: Alpha? Bravo: Cut the fucking goddamn tether Alpha, it’s pulling us in! Alpha: Who? Bravo: Fuck! Alpha: (Silence) Ah— Total radio silence for thirty seconds. Tether attached to Stravinsky is pulled free from its moorings and disappears. Command: Alpha, Bravo, do you copy? Radio silence for five seconds. Command: Alpha, Bravo, do you copy? Bravo: This is Bravo, I’m… I’m floating in the dark. I can see shapes moving through the fog, but they’re hard to make out. I cut my tether, Alpha wouldn’t— I think he’s gone. I don’t see his light anymore. Command: Acknowledged. We’re coming to- Bravo: Hang on, just let me think for a second… cognition, this thing, it doesn’t work around it. Your brain can’t form thought, (static) it hurts, it’s like dying, and— Command: Bravo, do you have eyes on the entity? Bravo: It’s in my head, guys. Coiled up in there like a snake, and something about it is… caustic. (Pauses) I can see it, just in front of me. It’s not doing anything, it’s… it isn’t moving. Just hanging there, with its mouth open. I think it’s finished eating. (Pauses) That fluid is seeping through the skin around its head, about a meter back. Just looking at the stuff is making me… like the room is spinning. I feel nauseous. My head isn’t working right. (Laughter) There's an abortion under the floorboards, and another in the si— wait, this is wrong, that wasn't me. Who said that? Bravo: My… I’m going to collect a sample, hang on. Command: Bravo, we’re going to send out a crew to get you, just hold on. Bravo: Oh no, don’t do that. Not… you have to be trained to not feel the things I’m feeling, otherwise it will get into you. Maybe it will anyway, who knows. It feels like the end of the world down here, fellas. My heart is really going off the charts, and I think I’m dying. Just— (Pauses) I got a sample. I’ll attach it to one of those little balloons and let it float up. You’ll be able to get it later. Don’t spend too much time around that stuff, it… it doesn’t… your mind… it… (Quick, heavy breathing) Command: Bravo? Bravo: I think I’m dying. I’m dying, I know I’m dying, this is it. I just want to get away from here. You know, it occurs to me… (laughs quietly) don’t send anyone else out here. It’s so dark. Command: Bravo? Over the next half hour, the SCPF Stravinsky attempted to approach O-9 Bravo, with no success. Command continued to attempt to communicate with O-9 Bravo, but Bravo grew increasingly unintelligible, before eventually going completely silent. Bravo's radio stayed active over the next three days, and intermittent breathing could be heard until the radio ceased functioning. Addendum 3000.2: Atzak Protocol Preface: The following protocol was developed in conjunction with researchers from Site-29 and Site-50, as well as researchers stationed at Site-151. Some sections may have been redacted to remove material above this classification. Adherence to this protocol is required for all personnel assigned to Site-151, as well as all personnel assigned to the SCPF Eremita. Abstract: The 151-HOLLISTER ATZAK PROTOCOL has been developed and implemented to create a strategy for the management of the Y-909 chemical compound excreted by SCP-3000. Protocol Information: The Y-909 compound, originally discovered by the late Dr. Adam Hollister, is a critical component in several modern and experimental amnestic compounds. Specifically, the following amnestics now contain a refined version of the Y-909 compound: * Class-A (2016 variant) * Class-D (2016 variant) * Class-E (2016 variant) * Class-X (2017 variant) * Class-XX (2017 variant) * REDACTED * REDACTED * Atzak-Class Experimental Compound * Foster-Class Experimental Compound * Ellipse-Class Experimental Compound The inclusion of the Y-909 compound has shown a marked increase in the stability and long-term effectiveness of the aforementioned amnestics. Overall, amnestics utilizing Y-909 break down 78% slower than their standard counterparts in cold storage, and 52% slower than their standard counterparts at room temperature. Additionally, individuals administered an amnestic regimen utilizing Y-909 show a marked increase in suggestibility, memory clearance, and a significant decrease in additional side-effects (such as nausea, vomiting, bowel distress, blurred vision, headaches, insomnia, heart damage, and others). Individuals treated with these amnestics expressed significantly fewer intrusive memories as those without Y-909, with some individuals exposed to experimental compounds expressing no intrusive memories whatsoever, even at the 5 and 10 year marks. Due to the effectiveness of these treatments with the addition of Y-909, the continued inclusion of this compound is essential to modern Foundation amnestic application. Reliance on the continued use of Y-909 necessitates its collection for the foreseeable future, as a synthetic version of the compound has not yet been discovered. As such, this protocol dictates the way this compound is collected off of SCP-3000, and the way personnel are to interact with SCP-3000. Below is a brief framework of the procedure, and detailed information can be found in the full Atzak brief: * Members of MTF Epsilon-20 "Night Fishermen" are to prepare a subject for deliverance to the feeding site. One individual D-Class subject is to be administered a sedative, and equipped with a high-pressure diving suit. The subject is then to be tethered to an underwater ROV within the aft airlock. The airlock is to be flooded, and the subject is to be towed by the ROV towards the feeding site. Upon reaching the feeding site, the ROV is to disconnect its tether, and return to the Eremita. * Throughout this stage, SCPF Eremita should monitor SCP-3000's position, and adjust course if the entity begins to move away from the feeding site. Mission command will provide additional instructions during this phase if necessary. * Personnel onboard the SCPF Eremita are to monitor SCP-3000 during feeding sessions. During this time, no personnel are permitted to leave the Eremitawithout authorization from mission command. * At a point after the total consumption of prey, SCP-3000 will begin to excrete Y-909 near the foremost section of its body. * Specialized teams of deep-sea divers are to exit the SCPF Eremita through the aft airlock and approach SCP-3000. Collection of Y-909 must take place during SCP-3000's "digestive" period, which is currently believed to be roughly two and a half hours after consumption of prey. Teams must return to launch craft before the end of this period. During this period, the typical effects of SCP-3000 are less severe, though Command should continue to monitor these teams for damage to their cognition. * After collection of Y-909 is complete, personnel are to transfer the collected substance to secure containers before returning to the surface. The mission administrator onboard the Eremita is to monitor the substance throughout transport. Addendum 3000.3: Psychological Evaluation Note: On ██/██09, Level 3 Researcher Venkatraman Krishnamoorthy attempted to exit out the Eremita's aft airlock without diving equipment, but was quickly restrained and the airlock cycle aborted. Despite having a CRV of 26, and having not displayed any previous signs of depression or suicidal attempt prior to his assignment aboard the Eremita, Krishnamoorthy was interviewed by staff clinical psychologist Dr. Anand Mannava to acquire a better understanding of SCP-3000's potential effect on his psyche. LOG Mannava: Hi Venkat, how are you feeling? Krishnamoorthy: Unwell. Mannava: That's what I hear. Do you want to talk about what happened today? Krishnamoorthy is silent. Mannava: We don't have to, if you don't want to. We can talk about something else. Krishnamoorthy: I'm tired, Anand. Mannava: I understand. This assignment has been stressful on all of— Krishnamoorthy: It's not, no, it isn't the stress. I've done this before, I've been on… I don't actually know if I've done this before. Mannava: You have. Krishnamoorthy: I don't remember it. Any of it. I've been getting these out of context feelings, like my body reacting to reflexes it didn't know it had. Everything is so disconnected, and trying to keep it together is… I'm just tired. Mannava: When did you start feeling this way? Krishnamoorthy: How long have we been down here? I don't remember. I don't know when, I honestly don't. I wish I could tell you more than that, but I have nothing. I look to that place in my mind and there's something else there— or sometimes nothing at all. Mannava: What do you mean, something else? Krishnamoorthy: I've been having other peoples' dreams, Anand. I see faces I don't recognize, places I know I've never been… or maybe I have. I don't know. How can I know what is real or not, when I can't trust my own mind? Mannava: Well, maybe I can help you with that, Venkat. We can go over things you think you've forgotten, and I can— Krishnamoorthy: Don't patronize me. I know you've felt it, Anand. Your mind gets hazy. Parts of you start to slip, your memories grow faint, fading in and out until they're gone, or worse, replaced. You see pasts that aren't yours, experiences that you never lived. You start to become other people, or… nobody at all. Mannava: Venkat, please. I'm just trying to help. Krishnamoorthy: Do you even know my work before we met? Come to think of it, I don't even remember how we met. I know your name, know that you're a psychologist, but are we friends? Are we brothers? I don't know how I know you. We work together, I know that. I still have that. But other things, they come and go. I don't know if I am married, or have children4. Mannava: I see. Krishnamoorthy: And that… that isn't the worst of it. I know this is happening to me, I know that my mind is coming apart. But there's something else in there, too. Something rising out of the… out of the smoke of my smoldering consciousness. That eel. Mannava: The eel? Krishnamoorthy: I don't… I don't remember my mother. I can hear her voice, but I can't remember her face. I can't remember how she smelled, or how she… but what I do remember is she told me about gods. (Pauses) There is a god, called Anantashesha. A serpent, the king of serpents. Said to lie beneath Vishnu in the cosmos. A six headed snake god, isn't that something? Mannava: It… yes, I am familiar. Krishnamoorthy: Ah… of course, I'm sorry. I forgot. (Pauses) She… I don't remember much, but I do remember that she told me about how Anantashesha would… would linger past the end. Gaze upon the darkness past the end of time. She said that, when the light of the universe had gone out, all that would be left is Anantashesha. (Pauses) I have worked my entire life for the Foundation, so much as I can recall. I have struggled to build my name and my reputation and done everything I can do to leave… something, anything. Some kind of mark that says I was here. But… Mannava: What is it? Krishnamoorthy: I… I believe that SCP-3000 is Anantashesha. I believe that this… this aberration, this treachery against cognition, is the result of us being in the presence of a god. Not just a god, but a god who exists across all time, all at once, and… even beyond. Maybe… maybe some part of the nothingness beyond the edge of time is part of Anantashesha, as well. Maybe it acts as, as a conduit, some kind of— Mannava: Venkat, please, we're scientists— Krishnamoorthy: No, let me finish. In defiance of the nothingness that comes after this, all of this, there is Anantashesha. There's a chance that my memories might live on, that I might be remembered like the memories I've seen have been through me. I don't… I don't have proof of this. But when I looked into its eyes and saw what it showed me, I was afraid. I'm merely a mediocre man, Anand. This was a fear that I have refused to acknowledge for years, a fear of irrelevance, that no one will know who I am when I die. Afraid of being forgotten. Afraid of my life being meaningless. Afraid of being alone. Afraid of dying. (Sighs) There is a terror within me that I cannot reconcile, Anand. I won't lie to you and tell you that the maw of the naga does not terrify me as well, but between this and the infinite dark I have gazed into, I have made up my mind. LOG Addendum 3000.4: Incident Video and Audio Log After two days of containment within a secure holding cell onboard the Eremita, orders were received to lift the hold order on Dr. Krishnamoorthy, in accordance to the terms of the Atzak Protocol. Three hours after Dr. Krishnamoorthy was released from his holding cell, the following incident took place: LOG <02:19:33> Krishnamoorthy stands near the entrance to the Eremita's aft airlock. Subject is facing away from nearest camera. <02:19:58> Proximity alarm is triggered. Exterior floodlights activate. SCP-3000 is still not visible. Command is alerted, and Eremita's engines engage, preparing for evasive maneuvers. <02:20:06> Krishnamoorthy is startled by proximity alarm, and begins to appear panicked. Subject continues to look at entrance to the aft airlock. Subject turns briefly towards nearest camera, and is observed to be weeping. <02:20:21> Krishnamoorthy slowly approaches aft airlock and opens airlock door. Subject enters airlock, and primary access door seals behind the subject. <02:20:57> Interior airlock camera captures Krishnamoorthy staring at exterior airlock door for a full two minutes, unmoving. After two minutes, subject collapses on the ground. <02:21:15> All cameras shudder as primary turbines spin up. SCP-3000 is visible on radar, approaching SCPF Eremita. SCP-3000 is not visible on exterior cameras. <02:26:37> Krishnamoorthy stands and approaches diving suit locker. Subject puts on a high-pressure deep sea diving suit, and then moves towards exterior door controls. Subject engages exterior door latch. Interior airlock camera is obscured by rushing water. <02:27:14> Secondary alarm is triggered by airlock breach. Personnel on the bridge attempt to close airlock, but Krishnamoorthy has already exited the airlock. <02:27:48> Krishnamoorthy hangs in the water behind the aft section of the Eremita, illuminated by exterior floodlights. Subject is motionless. <02:28:11> SCP-3000 slowly appears from out of the darkness. Krishnamoorthy remains motionless. <02:28:29> Exterior cameras shudder as Eremita begins to reverse towards Krishnamoorthy. Rescue teams have assembled in the airlock chamber. <02:28:52> SCP-3000 approaches Krishnamoorthy. Its mouth begins to open. Eremita sounds horns, but neither SCP-3000 or subject appear to notice. <02:29:09> SCP-3000 moves to just above Krishnamoorthy. Subject appears to look up into the now fully expanded jaw of SCP-3000. Eremita begins to flash external floodlights. Airlock opens. Krishnamoorthy: Anand… I was wrong. (Sobs) God save me, it's not— <02:29:21> SCP-3000 strikes and quickly consumes Krishnamoorthy. <02:29:45> SCP-3000 disappears into the darkness, and is no longer visible on exterior cameras. Rescue crews are recalled. Crew begins to initiate Atzak Protocol. LOG Addendum 3000.5: Personal Journal of Dr. Mannava Note: The following are excerpts from the personal diaries of Dr. Anand Mannava. Dr. Mannava has kept several journals during his assignment, and has reported that it is beneficial to counteract the psychological and memory-affecting properties of SCP-3000. 23/09/2009 I come to bury Venkat, not to praise him. Psychologically speaking, having your memories affected like his is not a pleasant experience for anyone. I really shouldn't be surprised he chose to relieve himself from having his memories meddled with - after all, it's really alarming. Being briefed on its effects doesn't change the fact that I need to constantly keep tabs on all staff, myself included, and ground us to reality. I am supposed to submit a full psychological report now, detailing what has gone wrong, why a staff member turned suicidal, and a full analysis of possible ways to prevent this from happening again in the future, to the O5 and Site Director Nox, have it reviewed and some new regimen designed to prevent such a travesty from happening again. He always was more religious than I am. Right at the end of his life he was riffing on Anantashesha - a primordial Hindu snake god - and rambling about eternity. I'm not going to question the legitimacy of his beliefs and his claims, but this is quite the enigma, and I suppose I should consider myself lucky that this assignment is relatively benign compared to previous assignments that I've had. I don't think this is a mythical eel - anomalous, maybe, but not really that extraordinary. It's funny - I spent the last thirty years blocking out everything my father wanted to teach me about Hinduism and now I'm racking my brains trying to remember anything he had to say about it. I want to say that it's because of the eel, but if I'm being honest with myself I simply tried to forget all his teachings. Maybe not at the beginning, but certainly by the end. I can barely even remember what he looked like. But I do remember how angry he got when I couldn't remember the names of my grandparents or great-uncles. He was desperate to preserve his culture heritage, and I did everything I could to spite him. On his deathbed he begged me to perform the traditional last rites after his death. He even wrote the instructions down, but I was so angry at him that I tore them up in front of him. I can't even remember why. The only memories I have of him are how he made me feel. He spent almost twenty years trying to pass down our heritage - and all I have now is anger and hatred and regret. 30/09/2009 Site Director Nox gathered the staff this morning for a short mourning. After a few brief and laconic eulogies, he took me aside and told me that Venkat's replacement will come in a few weeks - and as he kept no contact with his family, it's likely his belongings will just be disposed of, and are now technically Foundation property. The director indicated that if I want to keep a thing or two from him, I should do so now. His office was relatively unremarkable - his cushy squashed chair cushion, few office toys, and lots of marine biology books that I should probably check out someday. The only thing I took was a statue of Ganesh that stood next to the window. Not fully sure why myself, but he's now sitting on the bookshelf, next to a picture of myself, my wife, and our daughter at a lakeside terrace. It was a pretty unremarkable trip to some tourist trap in Lucknow, but this really is one of our best-looking pictures. We're going under again tomorrow. 11/11/2009 All of the D-class managed to stay put this week, which is good. Other than the routine depression and memory loss from exposure to SCP-3000, everything was in order. Sometimes I'm a bit envious of them - all they know is that they're scooping gunk off some big eel. They don't know of its importance, or why it's critical that they collect it, and how much it helps us. Of course, one saving grace of being on the psychological division for the Atzak Project is the awareness of its potential effects - I'm aware of what's happening to my psyche. I know that I have memories that are being drained, pieces that are being lost right now. I recall images of a young man on a bicycle, in front of a schoolyard gate, looking like it was the 80s, when I was in Singapore - he was laughing - yet I don't know if this man was a friend, a lover, a son, a family friend - who this young man is. Perhaps Italian? Or maybe Australian? Maybe this isn't even a cherished memory at all. I looked at the Ganesh statue and the picture of my family again. It's really quite a shame, I truly forgot most anything that I've done with them. I've started trying to learn some Hindu poems and songs; went out and got a copy of the Vedas, but I can't memorize the lines properly. I've been reflecting on what Venkat told me before he passed though - his deep, deep seated fear of mediocrity. Unable to rise out of the sea of humans that walk on the face of this earth. He's worked for the Foundation for years, and while he isn't one of the most well-known and household names of the Foundation, he's not exactly obscure - he's been the Foundation's leading marine biologist and go-to-expert for anything aquatic, and quite well-revered. I'm actually quite surprised by his jealousy - he was never the flashy and bombastic type, and I would have never guessed that he wanted fame and recognition. Perhaps he really was afraid that he is doomed to be stuck in mediocrity. Perhaps the silence of this place reminded him of something worse. Addendum 3000.6 : Memorandum on Atzak Brief 5/3000 CLASSIFIED Some new assignments had questions about our work here, so I'm publishing this to clear most of them up. Feel free to contact my office if there are any others. The Atzak Protocol is a method for gathering and processing the Y-909 compound. It's a thick, brackish, grey fluid that SCP-3000 excretes as part of its metabolism. We don't know the exact method by which it does this, but we have some ideas, and none of them are great for us. Initially, we thought it was bleeding. The first team we sent down to look at SCP-3000 went down to collect blood samples for analysis. When SCP-3000 attacked and consumed them, and began producing more of the substance, we realized that we were looking at something different entirely. It's definitely not blood, it's more akin to a prion slurry. It's extremely toxic, and spending too much time around the stuff causes a lot of the same effects as exposure to SCP-3000 does. Paranoia, memory loss, suicidal thoughts, etc. Refining the raw Y-909, what the processors call "eel jelly", allows us to create amnestics more effective than any we've ever had access to in the history of this organization. Herein lies the ethical dilemma. SCP-3000 only creates Y-909 after eating, and it only eats humans. Remember when I said we had some ideas about how it does this? Some of our biologists have hypothesized that SCP-3000 is breaking down whatever makes sapient creatures sapient, filtering it through some part of its skin, and the residual ether is what we collect. You want to know something really fucked up? We've taken radiographs of this thing, trying to see what's going on inside of it. It's full of dead human bodies. It's not digesting them at all, it's doing something else, and the end result is Y-909. When we first started using Y-909 in our amnestics programs, we tried to synthesize it. We got something close to what we were looking for, Y-919, but the side effects were catastrophic. The amnestics would work, we could get people to forget events, people, and so on. But then they would start to forget other things, too. The mental deterioration would rapidly increase until there was nothing left, and then they would die. A few of those researchers thought we might be able to figure out how to decrease the severity of those side effects, but the cost to continue those trials would have been astronomical, and the program was discontinued. It's no secret that what we're doing here is abhorrent. The Ethics Committee, the Classification Committee, they're all looking at ways to make this more tolerable than what it is. But the hard truth is, if we want to continue to use modern amnestics, we have to have Y-909. If we want to have Y-909, we have to feed D-Class to SCP-3000. Otherwise, we'd be forced to go back to the metaphorical dark ages, where we were amnesticizing people with opiates and chloroform. The good news is, we're developing ROVs that should be able to take over the job of collecting the raw material from our dive teams. This will eliminate any chance of accidental casualties like we've had in the past, and is a good first step. For everything else, only time will tell. -Nox Addendum 3000.7: Personal Journal of Dr. Mannava Note: The following is the full text of a page, penned in the hand of Dr. Mannava, which was ripped out of a journal and placed on his nightstand. undated I have spent a considerable amount of time on this assignment attempting to understand the underlying effects of individuals exposed to a Class VIII cognitohazard. I have conducted numerous personnel interviews, written a great many psychological reports, but I have not been able to properly deduce what about this creature would lead a perfectly sane man out the door of that airlock, and into the maw of the eel. Earlier this week, as I was preparing my notes for another report, I accidentally knocked the picture of myself, my wife, and my daughter off of my nightstand. The glass shattered as it hit the ground, and the picture fell out. As I cleaned it up, I noticed something written on the reverse of the image. It said, "Anand, Shanti, and Padma. June, 2002" But the writing was not mine, it was Venkat's. I was puzzled by this. Why would Venkat have written on the back of a picture of mine? I thought little of it at the time, and cleaned up the mess and went about my day. But this question stuck with me. It was a little thing, easily explained in any number of ways, but I could not seem to shake the notion of uncertainty. It was not until last night that a horrifying thought struck me, one that I could not sleep on. I accessed the Foundation personnel archives, and realized a truth that I cannot reconcile. Shanti was Venkat's first wife. Padma was his daughter. The records are clear. The life I remember, the experiences I am certain I have had with them, are the experiences and memories of Venkat, not me. I have never been married, and I have no children. Even now, I can see my wife in my mind, hear her laughter, smell her hair. But I know now that it is Venkat I see her through, not me. The horror of this realization has been replaced with a queer sort of dread. I've figured out what the eel does. Something about it, some latent part of its creation, abhors cognition. It breaks down human consciousness and scatters the part of us that we believe is a soul until all that remains is what we really are: electrical signals that will some day become inert. If even I can't remember myself, how can I expect anyone else to remember me? I have forgotten my own life - and I am strangely apathetic at this revelation. I will fade into the darkness, as thousands before me have, and thousands after me will. No one will care as I am forgotten. I do not despair for my own sake, but for us all - you and I, we will all face obliteration. I am not important. You are not important. Vast droplets of irrelevancy, stretching eons in the sea of time. We may fight against it, but our enemy is inevitability. I do not think that the eel is Anantashesha. I don't think it would matter if it was. What is clear to me now, as I feel myself coming apart, is not that the eel is some mythological creature, or divine serpent. Perhaps it's just a primitive creature that eluded us, holding no malice; perhaps it really is a primordial deity, harboring resent beneath the surface. The eel is not the harbinger of my demise, or humanity's doom. The eel is not the end of all things, it only shows us what the end looks like. And in spite of everything we might believe, every ideal we hold or providence we pray for, I know this much is true for all of us: Our end will be a forgotten one. Note: Dr. Mannava was later discovered, unresponsive, near the aft airlock. Evidence suggested that Dr. Mannava had broken into the onboard storage locker and ingested a significant amount of raw Y-909. Dr. Mannava was moved off of the Eremita, and remains at Site-151 for analysis. Category:SCP Foundation